When Teen Wolves Get High
by Believe in the Unknown
Summary: Summary:Because High Stiles likes to rate asses. Chapter 2: High Stiles. (Was going to do the drunk vs. high on this chapt. but decided against it)
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Because everything had been stressful enough without a group of hunters and medicine man kidnapping the three weakest links in the Hale pack and getting them high. **

* * *

It had been three hours since the group of hunters and the weird medicine man, whom Stiles calls Hippy guy, had drugged Stiles, Lydia, Erica and Isaac when they were hanging out. It had been two hours to get them completely high and mellow with a special blend of rare Northeastern Wolfsbane and something called White Rhino. From then on, the leader of the hunters wanted to know everything about their pack. And it had been one hour since they left the four of them in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere with the drugs still burning.

"Seriously Isaac, how do you think Derek gets his hair like that? I mean does he use gel? Gel, gel..mmm, I really want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. What about you Lydia?" Stiles asked the redhead, who was gazing at her hand as she turned it back in forth as if there was some secret death code that was on there.

She glanced up and started giggling. "My hand talks to me." Erica and Isaac giggled, looking at her hand as she put in straight on her face.

"What's it saying?" Isaac whispered, his eyes wide and vividly yellow; his wolfiness was showing.

"I don't know! I don't speak whale!" She said, shrugging her shoulders and flinging her arms out to the side as she laughed giddily.

"Catwoman, catwoman!" Stiles said, tugging on Erica's sleeve.

"What, Batman?" She asked, her expression serious.

"I can't find Robin! What if Cujo got him?! I can't lose my Robin!" Stiles yelled in all seriousness... before breaking out in hysterical giggles and chuckles. Erica joined him a few minutes later, the two of them collapsing on the floor.

"Do you mean Derek? I thought you liked Derek? Why doesn't mommy like daddy, Lydia? Why?" isaac said, tears pooling in his bright eyes.

"I don't know, Isaac. Why world, why!"

"I still want a jelly san'mich, Hippy Man!"

"You know what?" Isaac said standing up, "You know what I did?"

"What?" Erica asked as she watched him with wide eyes, in a sudden awe. Stiles and Lydia watched as well, curiosity sparking their expressions.

Isaac ripped the buttons of his shirt as he pulled it apart as he replied, "I brought sexy back,"

* * *

"Catwoman. Cat-woman. Woman Cat. Who came up with that name?" Lydia asked, looking up at the ceiling, her head pillowed on Stiles' lap as he braided little strand of her hair.

"DC, best company ever. Though it is a fun place to visit too. It has a White House and everything," Stiles said dreamily. They were all feeling a tired, their energy seemed to be depleting form them.

* * *

And that's how the rest of the pack found them. High and giggling and even crying on the floor next to each other. Derek sighed in relief before covering his nose at the sweet, albeit sour smell in the room. He glanced around the softly lit place trying to find its origin only to find a small bowl of charred green sitting on top of a wooden stool.

"What's wrong with them?" Scott asked as he watched his best friend roll around while mumbling incoherent words and giggling like a schoolgirl would been asked out by her high school crush.

"They're high, Scoot." Derek answered, dousing the ashes with a water bottle that had been left with three other on a table in the corner of the room.

"What do you mean they're high? Can werewolves even get high?" Allison asked, slinging her crossbow across her back.

"With the right herbs yes," Peter said, amused at the whole situation. "I think the question here is, what did they want from these three?"

"Information!" Lydia called, sitting up to gaze at the group. "Information on a pack consisting of three puppies, a pissy brooding Alpha, a Zombie Wolf, a Teen Wolf,"

"A spazzy, used-to-be possessed, information-about-everything specialist and two hunters who come from a long line of bat-shit crazy-ness and very good cooking." Stiles continued, "But you know what keeps running through my mind? Where's my sandwich?!"


	2. Chapter 2

**The Rating of the Asses- High Stiles (I just wanted to start out with this one; No drunk Stiles for this one, because Drunk Stiles is Drunk stiles and it involves groping)  
**

"No, he's a four, not a five." Stiles muttered to himself gorging himself on more popcorn. He was watching as the pack began to train in the front yard of the Hale House with Lydia sitting next to him.

"Who? Jackson?" Lydia asked, putting down the Vogue magazine to watch Stiles as he watched the pack from a distance. You see, Stiles just got back from being kidnapped; pro: he was back, con: he returned high off his ass from a magical drug... that and Lydia soon found out that High Stiles rates asses. Literally. Like a survey.

"Yeah. No offense to your boy-toy, Lyds, but he's got a kinda flat ass; I mean sure it's grab-able, but it's not full and firm," Stiles said, shoving another handful of buttery popcorn into his mouth. That was another thing. High Stiles = Hungry, Munching Stiles and a lot of junk food.

"Don't worry," She said, eying her boyfriend's ass. "It does need some work. What about Scott? What's he rated?" At the sound of his name, Scott looked over from where he was training with Boyd and smiled at them.

"Well, Scott's not really my type, but he's a solid 6.5; his butt isn't as firm as it looks,"

"But it sure is cute," Allison said, joining in the conversation as she sat in between them. "Okay, Isaac and Boyd," Stiles made a humming sound and closed his eyes a bit, smiling pleasantly.

"Isaac is a specimen all on his own; he's a good 7/8 with a pinch-able ass that's just bordering on not firm enough and spank-able. Boyd, however, is almost on par with Peter and is a solid 9; his butt is almost indescribable, but if you want a description go ask Erica," Stiles said, before taking a drink of the water that was next to him. Allison nodded agreeing with the poor boy, while Lydia frowned and said,

"I wouldn't say Peter's an 9, more like an 8."

"Mm, but you're forgetting that Peter's ass is round and full and when his hips sway ever so slightly, it doesn't jiggle; which means that his butt is firm and round and that is why he's a 9 and not an 8." Stiles said, motioning the curve of the Zombie Wolf's ass. Peter smirked over his shoulder and gave a slight sway of his hips.

"Okay last, but not least," Lydia began.

"Derek," Allison continued, looking over to where the Alpha had Isaac pinned, giving them a great view of his derriere.

"Ah, the glorious Alpha o' mine," Stiles said, looking at Derek's butt dreamily. "Derek is a 12,"

"A 12? The scale only goes up to 10," Lydia said, throwing Stiles an incredulous look.

"Derek's ass goes off the scale. I don't know what it is about Hales, but they have great asses. Derek's is firm enough to bounce a coin off of and at the same time it yields and it's soft and shaped awesomely."

"Wait, how do you know it yields?" Allison asked, looking at the honey eyed boy suspiciously. Lydia hid a smile under her hand as the boy opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Derek yelled,

"Stiles, don't you dare!" The poor boy giggled and took off as the Alpha charged towards the house. The pack broke down after hearing weird broken sentences of: "...Not funny," and "...It happened more than once," and "Drunken teens," and "Hey! YOU WERE DRUNK TOO!" and of course "Got you, you little shit," and finally, "No, DEREK! NO! HELLLLPPPP!"

To this day, the pack still doesn't know how Stiles knows about the soft, yielding of Derek's ass; well, Lydia knows, but that's because she's the Queen.


End file.
